


Bitten

by sackoflemons



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Gen, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 17:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5058274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sackoflemons/pseuds/sackoflemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barba wakes up with no memory of the night before and puncture wounds on his neck.  He couldn't really be turning into a vampire.  Could he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitten

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first SVU fic and my first fic of anything in quite a while. Be gentle?

Barba awoke with a gasp, his heart pounding. He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about but it obviously wasn’t good. As his heart slowed he realized that he also felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Why was it so bright? Why was his head pounding so hard? He'd never had a hangover like this, and besides, he hadn't been drinking enough to get a hangover. Right? Just his usual? He realized he didn't remember much of last night. Had someone drugged his drink? Oh God- 

He pushed the covers off and sat up, rubbing his face. He still had twenty minutes before his alarm went off, but if he went back to sleep he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get up again.

When he turned on the bathroom light he winced, stars shooting in front of his eyes. Wow. _Wow_. He nearly recoiled when he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. He looked like shit. His tan had somehow faded completely, leaving his skin shockingly pale except for the dark circles around his eyes, worse than they’d ever been. He leaned in closer to the mirror. Was he imagining things or were there less strands of grey in his hair than usual? Over the past few months it seemed like he'd been finding more every day. Maybe if it weren't so damned _bright_ in here he'd be able to tell for sure. And- 

Holy shit. What was that on his neck? He touched it gingerly. It was raised and red and ugly and in the middle of the mess were two puncture wounds. Had some insect bitten him? Something huge, by the looks of it. Was that why he felt so bad? Should he be worried? The wound itself didn’t itch or anything. 

He didn't have court today, thank god, but missing work was out of the question. He popped some extra-strength Advil and did his best to get ready. Maybe he could just keep his scarf on, walk as quickly as he could and avoid eye contact, and lock himself in his office until everyone else went home. And maybe leave early to see a doctor if it got worse. 

Barba accepted defeat almost as soon as he got to work. Of course everything had to happen at once, including a huge underage prostitution bust. Wonderful. 

His first “you-don’t look-so-good” of the day was from Carisi, about ten minutes after he showed up at the station. 

“Rough night, counselor?” 

He didn’t have the energy to respond and settled for a glare and a grunt instead. Carisi shrugged, used to this by now. 

He got through the day the way he usually did: focus on work and large amounts of coffee. When he got comments about his scarf he said he was freezing and getting over a cold. And by the time he was finally ready to go home, he’d started to feel a lot better. Stepping out into the brisk night air, he realized he was smiling. He’d gotten a lot of work done and the prostitution case wasn’t hitting any roadblocks so far. 

Not only did he no longer feel sick, he felt…amazing. Those hotdogs across the street smelled _delicious_ and everything just looked so sharpand clear and beautiful and he felt a crazy urge to break into a run, and…that was it. He was definitely going straight home, no bar tonight. Not until he shook off whatever this was. 

His morning went a lot better than the previous one, but he felt vaguely sick again and the sunlight streaming in his window still seemed obscene. He hurried to the bathroom, eager to see if the marks on his neck had diminished. 

They had, the redness almost completely faded, but the punctures were still there. It was better, though. Maybe he wouldn’t even try to cover them up. 

The rest of his morning routine went smoothly until he brushed his teeth. He lowered his toothbrush slowly when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Was he really losing it or did his teeth look different? His canines had always been on the sharp side, but _this_ sharp? He had to smile as the sci-fi-loving kid he’d once been whispered: “Oh no Rafael, you’re turning into a vampire!” He grinned at himself in the mirror. “How can I be a vampire if I have a reflection?”

He knew something was seriously wrong the second he stepped outside. It was late November but the sun was absolutely searing, and he could barely keep his eyes open. He instantly turned around and went inside to get his sunglasses. Maybe he just had some kind of deficiency? He knew he hadn’t been eating well the last few weeks. Months. Maybe he really _should_ see a doctor. 

Again with the comments today. Did he really look that horrible? “The sun is really harsh today,” was all he could think of to say in response. 

“Maybe you’re turning into a vampire,” Carisi said, raising his eyebrows and flashing a grin. 

Rollins rolled her eyes. “Carisi, Halloween was last month.” 

Barba was starting to feel better now that he was inside, though. Well…less like he was going to die, anyway. He still felt _weird_. It was like the opposite of having a cold. He could smell _too_ much. And…okay, this was weird, but the smells of certain people made him feel hungry. Especially Carisi. What the hell? Did he keep a supply of Italian pastries on his person at all times? 

He opted to stay inside until it got dark, just to be on the safe side. He’d heard of people being allergic to the sun. But did it just suddenly _happen_ like that? Fine. If he wasn’t better by tomorrow, he’d go to a doctor. For real this time. 

Once the sun went down, Barba realized he felt _incredible_ again. He also realized that people were giving him strange looks and going out of their way to avoid him. Maybe he'd better work on toning down his bitchface.

He didn’t go to bed that night. In fact, he didn’t even go home until around three. He spent the night wandering around and riding the subway aimlessly. Following people who had that good smell he’d smelled on Carisi before he realized he was being really fucking creepy and should go home and try to sleep.

He felt terrible again the next morning, and a glance at the mirror showed that he looked even more pale and sick. He slowly gathered the courage to open his mouth. There was no denying it now; his teeth were definitely longer and sharper. What the hell was going on? “VAMPIRES AREN’T REAL,” he said, staring into his bloodshot green eyes in the mirror. He was obviously just sick and sleep-deprived and possibly going insane.

At least it was cloudy today. Thank god. He’d brought his sunglasses and an umbrella just in case, though, and coated all exposed skin with sunscreen left over from his vacation to St. Barts. Not going to take any chances, just in case. 

He noticed that people were avoiding him more than ever today. They probably just didn’t want to catch whatever terrible illness he’d contracted; that had to be it. Even the ones who’d made jokes before were now giving him worried glances before remembering something that required their immediate attention. Fine, whatever. He was definitely leaving early to go to a doctor. 

He was almost out the door when the voice came from behind. 

"Rafael Barba?" 

Oh god. On top of everything else, was he really being served? Who had he pissed off this time? He racked his brain. This was the last thing he needed. 

He turned around to find a man in faded jeans and a thick sweater smiling at him. Oh. “Yes?” 

“I’d like you to come with me.” He reached for Barba’s hand. 

Barba pulled it back. “May I ask why?” He knew his tone was overly harsh but he didn’t care. He just needed to get out of there and to a doctor before he lost what was left of his sanity. 

The man leaned in after a quick glance to make sure no one else was within earshot. “I’m here to explain what’s happening to you.” 

“I’m going to a doctor,” Barba said, starting to push past the man. 

“A doctor won’t be able to help you,” he said, and with lightning reflexes gripped Barba’s arm before he could move. Barba realized that he’d lost control of his body and felt his head tilting upward to lock eyes with the man. 

“There’s a coffee shop I know,” he said, regaining his cheerful demeanor and leading Barba out the door. “I know how much you love coffee.” 

Barba’s heart was racing but there was nothing he could do. He could only go where the man lead him. He felt like he was sleepwalking. Maybe this _was_ a dream. It would explain so much. 

To Barba’s surprise, the man led him to an actual coffee shop and not some dark alley where he planned to murder him. The windows were grimy and the place smelled weird, but whatever. He’d take it. The man ordered for them, somehow knowing exactly what Barba preferred, and they sat at a small table in a corner. 

“My name is Jimmy, by the way,” the man said with a warm smile, placing Barba’s cup in front of him. “Now, do you promise not to yell? I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you move until we’ve finished talking, but I have to be able to make sure you understand me.” 

Barba found that he could nod, so he did. Jimmy looked relieved. 

“So, as you may have figured out, you’re a vampire.” Jimmy’s grin, strangely enough, did not include sharp canines. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Barba said. 

“It may seem that way, but it’s true. You’re sensitive to the sun now, aren’t you? You’ve noticed that your teeth have gotten sharper, your skin’s gotten pale, and you can see and smell and hear better than you ever could before. And you may not know it, but you crave blood.” 

“I’m sick,” Barba said. “I think an insect bit me and I should have gone to a doctor days ago. Is this a joke? Who put you up to this?” God, he really didn’t have time for this. 

“Mr. Barba, I know it’s hard to believe. I didn’t believe it at first either when it happened to me.” 

“ _Let me go_.” Barba felt his patience grow dangerously thin. 

“Wait,” Jimmy said. He smiled again, and Barba watched in horror as his teeth sharpened and grew. 

“If that doesn’t convince you,” he said, pulling out a small vial, “maybe this will.”

“Is that blood?” What a stupid question. Of course it was blood.

“A Negative,” Jimmy said. “Vampires tend to crave their own blood type. Have you noticed that you’re drawn to certain people’s scents?” 

Barba had to admit he’d noticed. 

“I want you to drink this,” Jimmy said. “Just a little.” 

Barba’s brain screamed “NO” but he found his hand reaching for the vial anyway. It did smell heavenly. He wanted it even more than the coffee he apparently wasn’t allowed to drink yet.

The blood tasted even more delicious than it smelled. Not metallic and disgusting like he’d imagined, it tasted almost like dark chocolate, smooth and rich and decadent. He immediately wanted more. 

Jimmy held up a small mirror. “Now, Mr. Barba, I want you to look at yourself.” 

He already knew he was going to see full vampire teeth like Jimmy’s, he could feel them, but he was still taken aback by his appearance. He was still pale but his dark circles had vanished and he looked…quite frankly, he looked damn good. His lips looked fuller, his hair looked shinier, and his eyes glittered.

  
“Why do I have a reflection if I’m a vampire?”

Jimmy looked uncomfortable. “I’m technically not supposed to tell you that,” he said. “You’re supposed to wait for the class.” 

“What class?” 

“All new vampires have to take an introductory class,” Jimmy said. “Only a licensed instructor is allowed to explain everything. I’m just here to… break the news.” 

“I don’t have time for a class,” Barba said. “In case you haven’t noticed, I have a very busy life and a job that I have to get back to.” Also, a _class_? What the fuck? Not a mysterious initiation ritual? What kind of vampires were these? 

“We did away with the creepy ritual stuff centuries ago,” Jimmy said, and Barba’s eyes widened. Shit. Of course they could read minds. 

“Fine, okay,” Barba said. “I’ll go to the class.” 

“Good!” Jimmy smiled again. His teeth had gone back to normal. “When are you available?” He was flipping through a leather-bound planner.

“As soon as possible,” Barba said. 

“What about tonight at eight? We still have a few spots open.” 

“Sure, fine,” Barba said. Better to get this over with quickly so he could get on with his life. If he still _could_ get on with his life. 

“OK, perfect,” Jimmy said, snapping the planner shut. “It’ll be in this coffee shop, in the basement. I’ll send a guide for you. Wouldn’t want you to forget!” 

Barba felt a chill despite Jimmy’s cheerful tone. More like “Wouldn’t want you to skip town and make us come after you.” 

“Oh, I can tell you one thing,” Jimmy said, still smiling. “You can’t tell anyone about this. There will be _very_ serious consequences if you do. More about that at the class.” He grinned wider. “Now drink that coffee before it gets cold.” 

Barba was expecting his guide to be someone perky and friendly like Jimmy but instead he got… he wasn’t sure because the man didn’t even introduce himself. He wasn’t very tall, about Barba’s height, but his something about him was unsettling. Maybe it was his piercing eyes, so light they were almost clear. Obviously they’d send their scariest vampire. Barba could appreciate that. 

The guide didn’t let go of him until they reached the door to the basement of the coffee shop. He nodded at Barba and closed the door as soon as he was in. Barba had no doubt that he’d locked it. 

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this. There were folding chairs arranged in front of a projector screen, and a table with cookies, drinks, and neatly labeled vials of blood in one corner. It looked more like an AA meeting than a vampire class. Whatever that was supposed to look like. 

Barba took a seat near the front and a petite woman in a skirt suit walked over to him. “Hi, Rafael? I’m Beth, and I’ll be teaching this class.” She smiled, and Barba still felt a pang of fear when he saw her fangs. How did they know his name? 

“This is for you.” She handed him a “HI MY NAME IS ____” nametag and a marker. 

He wrote his name, feeling ridiculous, and looked around the room. There were people of all ages, races, and genders. Some goths. But there were also middle-aged dads in sweaters. Interesting. 

Beth stepped to the front of the room and faced the chairs. “Hi everyone,” she said. “As you already know, my name is Beth and I’m going to be your instructor for this class. I understand that you’re probably all at least a bit nervous and confused, but don’t worry, we’re going to answer every one of your questions tonight.” 

“So... how _does_ one become a vampire?” she asked, and the first slide flashed onto the screen. 

Barba wanted to roll his eyes at the presentation (PowerPoint? Really?), but he had to admit he was grateful for the information. There was one very important thing missing, however. 

“Well, that’s about it. Any questions?” 

Barba's hand shot up. "How do I reverse this?" 

"Reverse?" she said, fanged smile not waning. 

"Yes. Can I opt out?" 

“Ah, yes. I never include this in the presentation because it’s quite a long explanation and someone inevitably asks.” Her tone was kind. “There’s no way to reverse it. Once turned – which all of you are – there is no turning back.” 

She was interrupted by a roomful of panicked muttering and protesting. Barba felt his heart sink.

“Now, wait,” she said. “You do have a choice. Of course we hope you’ll choose to become a full vampire, living only during the night and joining our community. But if you really must continue your former life, there is a way.” 

“Thank god,” someone said, and Barba felt a tentative relief wash over him. Good. He didn’t have time for this. 

“First of all,” Beth said, her smile disappearing for the first time that night, “Whatever you choose, you all must make a vow to tell absolutely _no one_ about us. If you do, your choice is gone and you can never live in the human world again. You’ll be sent _elsewhere_.” No one wanted to ask where “elsewhere” was. 

“Now,” she said, “there is a way to still live among the humans. We have clinics – I’ll hand out a list of them at the end – where you can get shots. You’ll need to get them once every two months. These shots allow you to tolerate the sun almost as well as you did when you were human. Now, with these shots, you won’t be immortal. You’ll still age, but it’ll be slower, at about three-quarters the rate of a human. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?” Appreciative laughter. “You can still be killed like humans can, but it’ll be harder. You’ll find that you heal faster, too.” 

“And there’s one other thing,” she said, using her serious voice again. “You will still need to drink human blood to survive. You can find your own human – we don’t judge – or you can get free blood at the clinics or at vampire meetings. Your fangs will appear when you need it and you won’t be able to retract them. It varies for everyone, but once you start to notice a pattern, it’ll be pretty predictable for you.” 

Murmuring in the audience. “You may find that you enjoy and even crave it,” Beth said. “Many do." 

Well that was… doable, Barba supposed. He raised his hand again. 

“Yes, Rafael?” 

Hesitantly, Barba reached down his shirt and pulled out a chain with a gold cross on it. “This isn't hurting me. Aren't crosses supposed to harm vampires?” 

“That's just a bit of pop culture nonsense,” she said. “There are vampires of all faiths!” 

“So... no one's going to try to 'slay' me?” 

“Not if they don't know you exist.” 

“Why can I see myself in the mirror?” someone blurted out.

“Another myth,” Beth said. “These myths actually work to our advantage. They’re a good way to ‘prove’ you’re not a vampire.”

After a few more questions, everyone seemed satisfied. Beth began handing out the list of clinics. “Now, I want you to mingle for a bit, get to know each other. We have meetings here every night at eight, ten, and midnight. Feel free to drop by any time!” 

Barba doubted he’d be doing that. What an inconvenience. Luckily the clinics were open all night (of course) and there was one on the way home. 

Like the class, the clinic was a lot less weird and creepy than he’d imagined, and the doctor told him he’d be ready to go out into the sun tomorrow. His fangs would also disappear by then and he’d start to get some color back. 

Grateful to finally know what was going on and to have been able to _do_ something about it, he stepped out into the night air. Now he could more or less return to his normal life and not have to worry about sleeping in a coffin or roaming the night hunting for “victims.” 

There was still one thing nagging at him, however. Who had bitten him in the first place? The fact that he couldn’t remember anything from that night was unsettling. He knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until he found out.

He decided to retrace his steps from that night, starting from his office. As usual, he’d stopped by his favorite bar for a drink right after work. Had it happened on the way there? How would he even be able to tell? He was a lawyer, dammit, not a detective.

He looked around for anything out of the ordinary but didn’t see a thing – not that he really knew what, exactly, he was looking for. He realized that he wasn’t usually very observant anyway. He must have always been too tired and stressed from a long day at work to really notice his surroundings. He supposed he’d be doing a lot more noticing from now on, thanks to his heightened senses. 

He got to the bar and hesitated before approaching Faye, the bartender. What was he going to say? “Hey, did you happen to see someone bite my neck?” Ridiculous. 

Instead he asked, “Do you remember seeing me here Monday night?” 

“Yeah, of course,” she said. “You’re always in here. I was starting to get worried about you, actually. You been sick?” 

“Yeah,” Barba said. “Actually, I’m kind of wondering if someone could have put something in my drink. Or if I had way more than usual. Did you see anything?” 

“Nope, nothing weird,” Faye said. “Come on, do you think I’d let you drink something I saw someone mess with?” 

“No, I know you wouldn’t,” he said. “But how many did I have?” 

“Just the one, as usual,” she said. “I’d remember if you had more.” 

“And nothing weird happened? You didn’t see anyone approach me or anything?” 

“No.” She looked worried. “Is everything OK?”

Barba forced a closed-lipped smile, suddenly remembering that he’d recently acquired vampire fangs. “Yeah. Well, thanks, Faye. Have a good night.” 

He turned to go and was almost to the door when a woman walked past him, locking eyes with him on the way. Her eyes were intense and he could tell right away that she was a vampire. Without her saying a word, he understood that he was to follow her. 

Once outside and a safe distance from the bar, she spoke. “I know who bit you, if that’s what you’re wondering. And I’m pretty sure it is.” 

“Who? Are they around here?” 

“It’s against vampire law to name a maker without her being present,” she said, “but I can take you to her.” 

He’d wanted to find out so badly but he suddenly felt nervous. Terrified, actually, if he was being honest with himself. Even though he was now one of them, too. What could happen that could be any worse? 

“She lives in Manhattan, so it’s not far,” the vampire woman said. “But she always has a car to take visitors to and from her place. I mean, why not live it up, right?” She took out a phone and sent a text. 

“My name’s Sylvia, by the way,” she said with a grin, fangs gleaming under the neon light. “Welcome to our world.” 

“Rafael,” he said, although he assumed she’d known that already. It was more than a little unnerving how they all seemed to know who he was. And where he worked. This wasn’t covered in the class. 

About ten minutes later a discreet yet classy black car pulled up to the curb. “That’s our ride,” Sylvia said, and a man who looked like a bodyguard got out and opened the back door for them. 

After a short drive they arrived at a glittering high-rise. The driver/bodyguard opened the door for them and led them to the door of the building, where he and the doorman exchanged nods. The doorman smiled at Barba and Sylvia as he led them inside. 

The lobby was gorgeous, of course, modern yet classy, and nothing short of opulent. They stepped into the elevator. “Penthouse, sir?” the operator asked. The bodyguard nodded. 

The elevator climbed for what seemed like forever before stopping at the top floor, and Barba was not surprised to find that it was just as gorgeous as the lobby had been. And this was just the hallway. Again, he felt the nervous gnawing at his stomach, but his curiosity overwhelmed him. He just had to make it through tonight and then he could go back to his life tomorrow. 

Barba was surprised to see so many people in this mystery vampire’s apartment. It was obvious she had some sort of party going on. A party with dim lights, pounding music, couples (and groups) making out on elegant couches, and waiters dressed like Chippendales passing out champagne.

“The mistress will see you now,” the bodyguard said. Oh, so he _could_ talk. Barba followed, only barely registering the fact that Sylvia had left him to join a group of scantily-clad vampires on the dance floor. He suddenly felt overdressed. _Way_ overdressed. 

“The mistress is delighted that you finally came to visit her,” the bodyguard said, opening the door into a room lit by chandeliers. There was a woman sitting on an honest-to-god _throne_ at one end, surrounded by beautiful young men. It was almost too stereotypical to be true. Barba stared.

Wait, did he know her? 

HOLY. SHIT. 

"Hello, Rafael," Minonna Efron said. 

Gone were the frumpy business suits, the glasses, the lank hair. Instead she wore a figure-hugging black dress, her lips plump and red, her hair falling in voluminous curls over her shoulders. She was gorgeous. 

“Minonna _Efron_?” Rafael blurted out before he could stop himself. 

“Remember me?” she asked, obviously relishing this moment. 

“How long have you been a vampire?” 

“About a year now. Best thing that ever happened to me.” 

No wonder he hadn’t seen her in a while. “How do you afford all this?” 

“I’m one of the top vampire attorneys in this city.” She grinned. “We have laws of our own, you know. Sure beats what I was doing when I was human.” 

The thought of Minonna Efron as a top attorney _anywhere_ blew Barba’s mind. The same woman who’d prompted him to quip “That’s your argument? Okay,” in court? This really was a strange new world. 

“Anyway, yes, it was me who bit you,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t stand to see you working yourself to death in that ridiculous human world. I did you a favor.” 

“You made my life even more difficult,” Barba said before he could stop himself. He eyed the bodyguard warily. 

“So you’re going to stay in the human world?” 

“Yes, of course! I can’t be a vampire! It’s just… not going to work for me.”

“I figured as much,” Minonna said. “But I have some advice for you: Live a little, Rafael. Enjoy your new life as a vampire. Stop by my place anytime you want - during the night, of course - and take advantage of my hospitality." She raised an eyebrow. "My parties are to die for."

Her words echoed in his head as he headed to the door. 

"Live a little, Rafael. Enjoy your new life!" 

"Enjoy" wasn't the term he'd choose. There were a few perks, but mostly it was just one more inconvenience for him. Damn Minonna Efron, annoying him even as a vampire.

Still, though… Barba couldn’t help but grin, enjoying the way his fangs pressed on his lip. That dance floor looked tempting, and he was already unbuttoning his shirt. Maybe just this once.

**Author's Note:**

> Were you wondering where Minonna Efron had gone? Because same. This is my headcanon until we hear from her again!


End file.
